Thursday, June 24, 2010

Cattails


Sunday was a bad hair day, one marked by puffy eyes and dark circles of sleep deprivation, a fading spray tan (oh the vanity); rented tables to return and borrowed linens to wash; a garage littered with empty coolers and a dining room overflowing with rumpled tuxedos.

It is Monday, the Monday following the weekend our son -- our baby -- got married.

I maneuver my bicycle around the coolers and out of our garage. A few minutes later, as I ride down a country road in the early morning sunshine, I see the cattails in the marsh, puffy and fading, survivors of a long Wisconsin winter. I know how the cattails feel.

Seeing a son get married is a beautiful thing. The woman beside him, radiant and in love. Our son completely in the moment, his eyes only for her. Family and friends gather to witness their joy, to share a meal, to raise a glass, to dance, to laugh, to celebrate. I celebrate too, share the joy of two people in love.

The wedding day is full of promise. Like the toddler's first step, the start of kindergarten, or the day he got his driver's license, his wedding marks the passage of time. For our son and his bride this is a new beginning -- a fresh start -- like the rich lush greens of a spring meadow.

When did the little boy and girl grow up, learn to rely on each other, become a groom and bride?" my heart asks.

When did we find time to grow old?" my knees reply, aching with every rotation of the peddles.

Ignoring my knees, I relax into the solitude. I am like the cattails, beautiful in my own season, but faded in comparison to the radiance of the meadow.

I let my mind drift. "...Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly..." The grace-filled words touch my heart. I pray my son and his bride spend their lifetimes loving extravagantly.

And, like the fresh green cattails of summer pushing upward from the earth, I will grow to discover a new season in this life, my own groom by my side.

Written June 14, 2010. Verse: 1 Corinthians 13:13 MSG